


one of those nights

by lgbtminkey (betamax524)



Category: SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Exes, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends With Benefits, Light Angst, M/M, Porn with Feelings, bottom Kibum, like thats very important please dont expect top kibum here LMAO, they're not idols but SM exists as... a karaoke franchise?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22843033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betamax524/pseuds/lgbtminkey
Summary: i’m thinking about doing something later tonightor going a little crazyi want to get you out of my headi need to do somethingAfter breaking up with Minho, Kibum realizes that casual hookups aren't his thing... The solution? Sleeping with Minho again, of course, but just asfriendsthis time. Mature friends who definitely know how to handle their feelings.Right?
Relationships: Choi Minho/Kim Kibum | Key, slight taemin/seulgi
Comments: 37
Kudos: 136
Collections: Winter of SHINee





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: A and B broke up, but since they miss the sexy times, they end going the Friends With Benefits route, but end up developing feelings for each other again.  
> \--  
> dear prompter, i hope u enjoy!

It’s been a few weeks since he broke up with Minho, and Kibum likes to think he’s doing great, all things considered. In fact, he’s doing  _ so  _ great, that he booked himself a month long vacation in London to reward himself for being so mature. He’s definitely not trying to run away from his feelings. Nothing like that at all.

London is great. From the time zone difference, to the absolute lack of people who knew about him and Minho as a couple, Kibum thinks it’s pretty perfect. 

The hookup culture is just the icing on top.

***

It takes maybe 3 or 4 times for Kibum to realize that sex with random guys is pretty bad most of the time. Or, god forbid, so  _ boring _ that Kibum would rather watch paint dry. 

He decides it’s better to be fairly celibate, much to his chagrin. Sure, he has a snog here and there, but the moment they suggest anything else, Kibum bolts. 

_ Whatever.  _ He thinks.  _ It’s not like I came here just for sex. _

He spends the rest of his trip sightseeing, trying to ignore the voice in his head that tells him how much Minho would love London.

***

Kibum’s half-asleep when he gets off the plane back in Korea, and he’s just about ready to call a cab and pass out when he hears someone scream his name. He whips his head around and finds Taemin, of all people, hooting and hollering with a paper sign as Jonghyun desperately tries to make him shut up.

He can’t help but smile anyways.

“We’re at the airport,” Kibum says, shaking his head as he walks closer, “You’re embarrassing me.”

“No thanks for your welcome party?” Taemin says with an exaggerated pout, “I worked all night on this sign too!”

“I can tell you scribbled it with a marker on the way here,” Kibum snorts, “But thank you.”

Satisfied with his acknowledgement, Taemin beams, folding up his paper sign and shoving it in his pocket. “Well, I have to go now,” he says, “Welcome back, by the way.”

“You’re leaving already?” Kibum asks.

“Yup, have to go check on the party stuff,” Taemin says, “If you don’t go, by the way, I’ll break into your house.”

Kibum stands there, mouth gaping open. “You came all the way here just to threaten me to go to your girlfriend’s birthday party?!”

“Yup!” Taemin beams, “You’re lucky I graced you with my presence, after all.” He waves at Kibum and Jonghyun, already walking away.

Once Taemin’s out of earshot, Kibum turns to Jonghyun. “What the hell was that?”

Jonghyun shrugs with a sheepish smile. “To be fair, it took us a while to figure out which gate you’d be coming from. We came here early, promise.”

Kibum raises his eyebrows, and Jonghyun just smiles awkwardly.

“I’m tired,” Kibum says instead, “Did you bring your car?”

***

The second he’s back in his apartment, Kibum heads to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of wine, much to Jonghyun’s amusement.

“So… how was London?” Jonghyun asks, pouring himself a glass of water, “The sights, the people…?”

“It was the absolute worst,” Kibum groans, rolling his eyes for dramatic effect. He flops down on his couch with a loud groan, and Jonghyun sits across him.

“It can’t be that bad,” Jonghyun snorts, “Just because you didn’t have a religious experience— “

Kibum stares at Jonghyun. “A white guy humped me for maybe three minutes and had the  _ audacity  _ to ask if I came.”

“I wasn’t referring to your sexcapades,” Jonghyun says, nearly choking on his drink. 

“I get more turned on during my mandatory Saturday night jerk-off session,” Kibum continues, ignoring him, “Is sex really this boring for everyone else?”

“Not everyone has a sex life straight out of porn.”

“Ugh! But  _ I  _ did!” Kibum groans again, resting his head on his hands, “I shouldn’t have broken up with Minho.” 

“Hey now, that’s probably the wine talking,” Jonghyun says, patting Kibum’s shoulder awkwardly.

“I miss being able to come at all during sex,” Kibum almost sobs.

“Alright. That’s definitely the wine talking,” Jonghyun says, picking up Kibum’s glass. “Anyways, sex life woes aside, are you coming to Seulgi’s birthday?” he continues. Kibum feebly reaches for his wine glass, and Jonghyun slaps his hand away.

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” Kibum huffs.

“Oh come on, it’s our friend’s birthday,” Jonghyun huffs, “And it’s your welcome back party too. The karaoke will probably be noisy enough for you to stop thinking about dick for just one night. You can even sing some BoA songs, y’know.”

Kibum grumbles. Jonghyun’s right, which is annoying all in itself.

“It can’t be  _ that  _ bad,” Jonghyun continues, “Some singing, some drinking, probably some of Taemin making a fool of himself…”

“Yes, yes, I’m going,” Kibum says with a wave of his hand.

***

The next day, Kibum finds himself standing in front of SM COEX, the hip, new, and definitely expensive karaoke place in downtown Seoul. Bright pink accents and minimalist decor welcome him as he walks through the glass doors. It looks more like a modern pop-up shop than a karaoke bar, down to the cartoon mascots cheerfully telling him about the company.

“Hi, welcome to COEX!” a cheerful staff member calls out, “Do you have a reservation?”

A reservation for a karaoke place… Kibum honestly thought Taemin was joking. “Yeah, I’m here for a party,” he says, “It should be under Lee Taemin?”

The staff nods, turning their attention to an appropriately pink monitor. “Right, Lee Taemin, for Room 5. That’s one of the big rooms upstairs, sir, please follow me.”

One flight of stairs later, the staff leads Kibum down a much dimmer hallway with frosted glass doors and neon pink signs. “The restrooms are at either end of the hall,” the staff explains, before stopping in front of a door labeled  _ ROOM 5 _ . “We hope you enjoy!”

Kibum hums, bowing politely to the staff as they leave before pushing the door open. It’s definitely a party room, way bigger than karaoke rooms Kibum’s been in before. 

Taemin spots him from across the room, ushering him closer with a wave of his hand. “Thought you’d still be jet lagged, or something,” Taemin says, clapping a hand on Kibum’s back.

“I distinctly recall you threatening me in person,” Kibum says wryly, but he smiles all the same.

Taemin snickers. “Well, I’m pretty sure you know everyone else here, kinda,” he says, gesturing around the room, “Some of Seulgi’s friends are here too.”

“Well, introduce them to me, dumbass,” Kibum says.

“I was about to,” Taemin snorts. He takes Kibum’s hand, leading him to a small group of people laughing to themselves. But just before Taemin can drag him any closer, Kibum stops in his tracks.

It’s Minho. Kibum would recognize that damned turtleneck anywhere.

Taemin gives him a weird look, and Kibum glares at him, jerking his chin in Minho’s general direction. Before Taemin can say anything, Kibum manages to drag him out of the room and into the hall. 

“ _ What  _ is he doing here?” he hisses, hands on Taemin’s shoulders.

Taemin rolls his eyes. “I invited him. Because, you know, we’re all  _ friends.” _

“Well yeah, but you know damn well Minho and I are…”

“You’re a grown man,” Taemin says. He narrows his eyes, and Kibum winces at the weight of his stare. “Seulgi wanted to celebrate her birthday with  _ all  _ of us. I couldn’t just leave one of you out of it because you’re both being weird about each other.”

“You could’ve just not invited either of us!” Kibum hisses, feeling very much like a kid being scolded.

“And have you two moping about how I didn’t invite you? As if,” Taemin huffs. He closes his eyes and sighs, leaning back against the wall. “Look, I’m sure with all the people here you can avoid him for just a little more. Just until we bring the cake out, please?”

Taemin opens his eyes to give him a pleading look, and Kibum groans. He  _ knows  _ Kibum can’t bear to make him mad. “Fine,” he says, “After the cake, I’m high-tailing it out of there, got it?”

Taemin nods, and Kibum figures that’s as good as it’ll get. He walks back to their rented room, sneaking into a neglected chair as everyone watches a tipsy Jonghyun sing some IU song. It must be one she released while he was abroad, because he certainly doesn’t recognize the melody. 

Everyone else seems to know it by heart though, and Kibum sinks into his chair as he watches everyone sing along. He catches Taemin trying to sneak his arm around Seulgi’s shoulders, only to somehow lose his balance. He still keeps watching, even when Taemin crashes into her side, and they both start laughing. Pure, uncontrollable laughter, to the point where Taemin’s face is turning red.

He leaves to go to the bathroom.

He manages to find a little more peace and quiet in the hallway, the walls thick enough to muffle the singing coming from every room. He shoves his hands into his pockets, feeling very much like a dejected child. He shouldn’t feel jealous, but he just feels so  _ alone.  _

He finally makes it to the bathroom, and opens the door. But of course, it’s just his luck that Minho’s there, standing by the sink, turning to look at him.

_ Oh for fuck’s sake…  _

He heaves a deep sigh. Minho turns away to look back at the mirror, obviously pretending he doesn’t see Kibum. For a moment, Kibum just stands there, watching the flex of Minho’s muscles underneath the rolled-up sleeves of his turtleneck as he washes his hands.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” he says.

Minho stops, and takes a deep breath. “Wasn’t sure if you wanted me to say anything,” he says.

Kibum scoffs, moving past Minho to lean against one of the cubicles. He’s here to clear his head, and finding Minho here isn’t helping.

“How was London?” Minho asks instead, looking at Kibum through the mirror. “Heard you just got back.”

Kibum sighs. “Boring. Full of white people who can’t kiss for shit.”

It’s just something about Minho that makes Kibum open up without being asked to. If it was anyone else, he would’ve lied so easily about how London was the best thing to ever happen to him. But Minho sees right through him, and Kibum knows lying to him isn’t worth it.

“Disappointed?” Minho laughs, “Told you 50 Shades was unrealistic.”

“Like you could do better,” Kibum says, making eye contact with Minho through the mirror.

The thing is, he knows Minho  _ could.  _ He’s had first hand experience with that. He doesn’t even know why he wants to rile Minho up like that. Maybe he’s just bored. Maybe he’s irritated that Taemin’s having a grand old time while he sits around sulking. Maybe he’s mad that Minho seems to be doing fine. Maybe he wants to drag Minho down with him so they can both be mad and lonely together.

Always rising up to his bait, Minho turns around to look straight at Kibum. 

Kibum smiles.

***

Minho all but shoves him into the cubicle, and Kibum can’t even be mad.  _ Finally,  _ he thinks,  _ Someone with initiative and upper body strength.  _

“You’re fucking irritating, you know that?” Minho hisses, and Kibum smirks. It’s too easy to get Minho all up in his face like this, get him to stop acting like such an irritating goody two shoes.

“You like it,” Kibum says. Minho scoffs, and kisses him instead of answering.

There’s no gentleness about it, no apprehension. It’s all tongue and teeth, barely even a kiss, and Kibum  _ loves  _ it. He’s sick and tired of having to explain himself every time he hooked up with someone in London. Minho knows him so well, knows that Kibum likes being roughed up every once in a while, and he never asks questions.

“So easy,” Kibum says when they pull apart, hands curled in Minho’s turtleneck.

“Could say the same to you,” Minho says, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. He leans forward, scraping his teeth against Kibum’s neck as he pulls out Kibum’s shirt from where it’s tucked inside his pants.

Kibum sighs as Minho unzips his pants, leaning his head against Minho’s shoulder. The touch is familiar, and Kibum finds himself relaxing. He gives a pleased hum as Minho starts palming at him through his underwear, spreading his legs slightly wider. He doesn’t even need to think that much about what to do next, content to let Minho take the lead. 

“Am I boring you?” Minho huffs, breath puffing against Kibum’s ear.

Kibum rolls his eyes. “What do  _ you _ think?” he teases, grinding against Minho’s hand, “C’mon, don’t keep me waiting.”

Minho nips at his neck, dragging his underwear down, and Kibum bites back a whimper when Minho grips him in his hand, teasing the slit with his thumb. He can’t help but grind back against Minho’s hand, burying his face into the soft fabric of Minho’s turtleneck. Usually he’d be annoyed at how Minho knows him a little  _ too  _ well, but right now… the knowledge is definitely appreciated. Minho’s fingers are a little rough from all the sports he plays, and he strokes Kibum in all the right ways.

Kibum gives a muffled whine when Minho stops to spit in his hand, digging his fingers into Minho’s top. Minho just chuckles, a low rumble in his chest, as he slips his hand back down and pinches the sensitive skin of Kibum’s inner thigh.

“I wish I could fuck you right now,” Minho whispers, and Kibum shudders from how easily he says it.

“Fat chance,” Kibum breathes, “But if you make me come, I’ll consider sucking you off.”

Minho clicks his tongue. “So spoiled.” He runs a loose fist down Kibum’s shaft, palm slick with spit. He slowly starts jerking Kibum off again, tightening his fist with every stroke. Kibum groans, thrusting up into Minho’s fist.

“That’s it,” Minho says, kissing Kibum’s weak spot behind his ear, “Keep going, baby.”

Kibum moans shakily, turned on even more by Minho’s voice. It’s honestly embarrassing how easy he is, how Minho knows how to leave him a shaking mess in his arms. But, fuck it, it feels  _ good,  _ and Kibum’s always been a bit of a hedonist. 

“Close already?” Minho teases, his rough voice cutting through Kibum’s haze of pleasure. 

“Fuck you,” Kibum groans, annoyed by Minho’s teasing, especially when he feels like he’s teeteering at the edge of an incredible orgasm.

“I take that as a yes?” Minho says, annoyingly calm and composed. Before Kibum can talk back, Minho starts jerking him off roughly, twisting his wrist on the upstroke in a way that makes Kibum pant loudly. His strokes are fast and steady, leaving Kibum shaking as his body struggles to keep up with all the stimulation.

And then Minho scrapes his teeth against Kibum’s neck, and Kibum bites down on Minho’s shoulder to stop himself from moaning too loud as he comes, hot and quick into Minho’s hand.

Kibum has to take a minute or so to collect himself, steadying himself from where he’s draped in Minho’s arms. He grunts, closing his eyes and leaning back against the wall.

When he opens his eyes, Minho’s staring right at him. He slowly pulls back from Kibum’s dick, Kibum wincing when Minho lets his fingertips drag along his shaft for a little longer than needed. Minho brings his hand up to his mouth, and keeps his eye contact with Kibum as he licks his hand clean. Breathless, Kibum pulls him closer for a kiss, moaning when he tastes himself on Minho’s tongue.

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” Minho says.

Kibum can feel Minho’s cock pressing against his thigh, even with both their jeans in the way. He pushes forward a bit, just so he can hear Minho curse under his breath.

“Don’t be a fucking tease,” Minho grunts into his hair, and Kibum smirks.

“Technically, I said I would  _ consider _ sucking you off,” he says, reaching to roughly grope Minho’s crotch through his jeans. Minho groans, resting his forehead against the wall. Kibum licks his lips, feeling Minho grow even harder as he strokes him. He feels a little giddy, tracing around Minho's dick and remembering how thick it is.

Kibum’s always been something of a size queen, and his experience with Minho certainly didn’t help matters. Part of him is tempted to take up Minho’s earlier offer, really, but he’s not  _ that  _ horny.

“Do you really want me to suck you off?” Kibum teases, smirking as he lets his nails run along Minho’s length.

“What, want me to beg for it?” Minho says, pulling back to look Kibum in the eye, “That’s not my style.”

Kibum gives him an exaggerated pout. “At least say please.”

Minho doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leans in and licks a hot stripe up Kibum’s neck, chuckling to himself when Kibum bites back a whine. “Will you  _ please  _ suck me off, princess?”

“Asshole.” Kibum huffs. He hasn’t heard that nickname in months, but he still manages to blush. “Maybe I’ll bite your dick off because you’re so damn rude.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Minho says, pulling away and moving to lean against the cubicle door. He slips his hand under his waistband, blatantly stroking himself, and of course, Kibum can’t help but watch. God, they’re both so predictable. 

It's almost second nature at this point, the way Kibum squats down and readies himself. His first taste of dick back in Korea, and it's in some cramped karaoke bar bathroom with his  _ ex _ , of all people.

Oh well, he thinks, at least he knows Minho's is worth it.

There's no point in drawing it out, so Kibum pulls down Minho's zipper without any fanfare. Minho groans once Kibum gets his dick out, leaning his head back.

“You poor thing,” Kibum snickers, earning himself a glare from Minho. “You’re so hard it’s actually kinda funny… Cute, even.”

Minho scoffs, tangling a hand in Kibum’s hair and pulling his head back. Making eye contact with him, Kibum gives a smug smile before leaning forward and sucking Minho’s tip into his mouth. He pushes forward a little more, just until the tip hits the roof of his mouth, before slowly jerking Minho off with one hand.

Minho groans loudly, slightly thrusting into Kibum’s mouth. Kibum hums, letting his jaw go slack, only pushing Minho back when he starts going too deep.

It's a good thing Kibum literally can't talk right now, because he's sure he would've said something embarrassing  _ and  _ stupid. Like how much he's missed Minho's dick, or something. Maybe it's because they both know what they want, and how to get it. There's no guesswork needed, no awkward pauses, no hesitation. He doesn’t need to tell Minho he’s going too fast or too deep, because all he needs to do is squeeze his hip and Minho understands.

Maybe fucking around with your ex has  _ some  _ merits, Kibum thinks.

He pulls off to catch his breath, panting slightly. Minho’s panting too, flush barely visible on his tanned skin, and Kibum’s glad he’s not the only one getting a little too into it. He bites his lip, leaning in again to lick a long stripe up Minho’s shaft. Minho groans as he repeats the action, his cock getting slick with Kibum’s spit.

“You’re really something else,” Minho groans, watching as Kibum takes him into his mouth again. Kibum raises his eyebrows, slowly moving downwards until Minho hits the back of his throat, just so he can see Minho curse and slam his head back against the wall. He chuckles, Minho’s dick still in his mouth, before he pulls back a bit to start moving up and down. It’s sloppy, wet, and probably a little too noisy, but he knows that’s just what Minho likes.

He even lets Minho thrust into his mouth again, giving a pleased hum when his thrusts turn erratic and desperate.

“Fuck, Ki— I’m close,” Minho groans, digging his fingers into Kibum’s scalp, “Where— “

Kibum pulls off, gripping Minho’s dick by the base. “I’m not in the mood to wash cum off my face,” he says.

“You sure?”

“Don’t act like you don’t want it,” Kibum laughs. Minho huffs, but it quickly turns into a yelp when Kibum takes the tip into his mouth again, sucking at it insistently. Minho curses, hands trembling as Kibum doesn’t let up, moaning around his dick and goading him on.

Minho lets out a strangled groan when he finally comes, fingernails digging into Kibum’s scalp. Kibum shivers, swallowing it all before he pulls away. They both try to catch their breath for a moment, the air embarrassingly smelling of sex.

“Well…” Kibum says, clearing his throat. He licks his lips, and he doesn’t miss the way Minho’s gaze drops to follow the motion of his tongue.

“We should get back,” Minho says, and Kibum gets a little ego boost from how rough his voice sounds, “Before anyone notices.”

Kibum nods.


	2. Chapter 2

“So… I may have… kinda… messed around with Minho last night.” Kibum says slowly, mouth full of cake.

“... Kinda?”

“I mean, we didn’t actually  _ fuck.”  _

“That doesn’t make it much better,” Jonghyun points out, “I’m pretty sure everyone noticed, by the way.”

When Kibum glares at him, he raises an eyebrow. “This wouldn’t be the first time you two have gone off to mess around like horny teenagers during a party.”

“We came back just in time for the birthday cake,” Kibum says.

“Because  _ I  _ sang one more song until you guys walked back in. Very subtle, by the way.”

Kibum scoffs. “Whatever. It’s done now,” he says, “Can you get me some water? My throat’s kinda sore.”

“I didn’t need to know that.”

“It’s because of the cake,” Kibum lies, “Don’t be such a pervert.”

Jonghyun stares at him, eyes wide. Kibum only sticks his tongue out in response, and Jonghyun shakes his head, getting up from the table with one last glare at Kibum.

Once Jonghyun’s far enough, Kibum rolls his eyes. He’s a fully grown man, for fuck’s sake, there should be nothing wrong with messing around once in a while.

_ Treating me like some stupid, horny teenager,  _ he thinks,  _ How annoying.  _

And it was a weight off his shoulders too, somehow. He wonders if Minho would be open to them meeting up again like that. Just as friends. Friends that fuck sometimes. Friends with benefits. Something of the sort.

He picks up his phone, scrolling through the contacts. Minho’s contact name says  _ DO NOT TEXT!!!,  _ but Kibum figures it wouldn’t hurt to try.

***

Minho wakes up way past breakfast, judging by how fucking bright the sun is through the crack of his curtain. He groans, reaching for his phone, unlocking it to find a message.

_ You’re probably hungover or something. Don’t worry, your favorite noona covered for your bitch ass <3 You owe me, by the way.  _

Minho smiles. Thank god Sooyoung always has his back. He replies with a quick  _ Love you noona ^^ <33333 _ before scrolling through the rest of his notifications. He’s been tagged in a bunch of Instagram posts and stories, mostly from Taemin, who seems to have uploaded his entire camera roll in one go. He scrolls quickly through them, just to make sure there's nothing particularly embarrassing.

Near the end of his notifications, there’s a message from Kibum.

_ hey. it’s me, kibum. wasn’t sure if you still had my number saved.  _

Minho stares for a long moment before he actually checks the rest of the message.

_ anyways, i had a good time last night. we should do that again :-) text me? _

Just before he can figure out what to answer, his stomach growls loudly, reminding him that he hasn’t eaten yet and it’s already past lunch. He can reply later, Minho thinks, better to get some food first before he does anything stupid. When he checks his fridge though, he sees that all he has right now is kimchi, three bottles of Gatorade, and a lone bagel.

Right. So he’s going out for lunch today.

Onyu Ramyeon should probably be open by now, and he could really use something nice and hot for his first meal of the day. After a quick shower, he throws on a shirt and jeans and slips on a pair of shades as he walks out the door.

***

When Minho gets there, there’s already a line. He groans, because of course this place would be busy during  _ lunch time.  _ He’s about to turn around and find some quick take-out place when he hears someone call his name. Minho turns, and he sees Jinki waving at him from the door.

“What’re you doing here?” Jinki teases, smiling widely, “I’m sure you could afford some gourmet ramyeon.”

“Sometimes you just want something hot and homemade,” Minho says with a shrug. “Why are  _ you  _ here? Helping out for the day?”

Jinki laughs. “I promised Mama I’d help out, especially since I came home a little too close to sunrise.”

Minho clicks his tongue. “And you call  _ me  _ the party guy.”

“C’mon,” Jinki says, “I’ll let Mama know you’re here.”

“But the line—”

“You’ll be eating in the staff room,” Jinki laughs, “That way we can  _ talk. _ ”

Minho nods, letting Jinki pretty much drag him inside a smaller room and shove him into a chair before he disappears. Onyu Ramyeon is always busy one way or another, but this is the first time Minho’s seen it jam-packed. There’s a hubbub of customers in the restaurant itself, and Minho amuses himself by indulging in a little people-watching.

His mind eventually goes back to Kibum’s text. Did he really want to see him again? It felt like what happened yesterday wasn’t even real, like it was a fantasy Minho’s mind conjured up because he was  _ that  _ lonely. It’s a little hard for Minho to reconcile the cold Kibum who broke up with him, and the flirty Kibum who acted like nothing happened.

He sighs, running a hand down his face. Obviously he wanted to see Kibum again, that part was easy. He just wonders if he’ll be what Kibum wants him to be.

The door cracks open and Minho jerks upright. He definitely doesn’t want Jinki to see him moping.

“So… Heard you and Kibum  _ disappeared  _ during the party,” Jinki says, setting down a steaming hot bowl of ramyeon in front of Minho.

Minho groans. Of course they would be talking about  _ that.  _ “Who the hell told you?”

“So it  _ is  _ true,” Jinki laughs, “Did you two make up?”

“I think it’s none of your business,” Minho scoffs, focusing on stirring the noodles and toppings together.

Jinki hums, still frustratingly cheerful. "So you two  _ did  _ make up, one way or another. Or should I say make  _ out?" _

Minho groans. “Like I said, none of your business.”

“Alright, alright,” Jinki laughs, turning his attention to his own food, “I was just curious, y’know.”

Minho nods, slurping at the noodles like it’s his last meal. The reason he keeps coming back to Onyu— aside from the fact that Jinki is his friend— is just how damn  _ good  _ the food is. It’s all Mrs. Lee’s home recipes, and Minho honestly gets jealous of how good Jinki must eat at home.

“Should I get you another bowl?” Jinki says, eyeing how Minho’s already downed a third of their largest serving size, “Geez man, you eat like you haven’t seen food in a week.”

“One more would be perfect, thanks,” Minho says, muffled by the noodles in his mouth.

Jinki shakes his head fondly. “Gotcha,” he says, getting up from the table, “Give me a few minutes.”

Minho gives him a thumbs up, cheeks full of noodles, and Jinki laughs as he leaves the room. 

***

Kibum stares at his phone. It’s already afternoon and Minho  _ still  _ hasn’t replied. Not that he’s been checking. He sighs, rolling over to the cooler side of the bed, opening Instagram to aimlessly scroll through it. 

Jjong was cranky earlier at the cafe, but Kibum figures he’s probably hungover as fuck too. After all, he was always a lightweight. Besides, he dropped the topic of Minho when he came back with water for both of them, choosing to complain about his massive headache instead.

Kibum’s phone pings with a notification, and he rushes to open the message. He’s still got Minho’s number set to a special alarm, even after their breakup. He figured he wouldn’t need to change it if they were never going to speak again.

_ I’m down. Just let me know when you’re free. _ _   
_ _...Not right now though, I’m still hungover lol _

Kibum snickers.

_ oh cmon. im not that desperate >< _

_ Ha! Previous experience tells me otherwise,  _ Minho replies, almost immediately, and Kibum’s heart skips a beat.

He feels… giddy, like he’s gone back to their first few months dating, where he eagerly waited for Minho’s texts like a lovestruck teenager. He can’t help but wonder how Minho feels, right at this moment. Is he lying down in bed too? Or maybe on the couch? God, was he even at home? Because Kibum knows that at home, Minho wears nothing but— 

Kibum shakes his head, trying to reel in his thoughts. Now’s not exactly the time to be horny.

Unless… 

_ u doing anything? _ _   
_ _ i swear waiting for a hangover to pass is The most boring thing _

_ I’m jacking off. _

Kibum yelps, nearly dropping his phone. A thousand images flood his brain, all various levels of explicit, until a new message pops in.

_ Just kidding ^^ _

Oh my god. Kibum flushes. He’s glad he didn’t reply immediately, at least.

_ u rly had me going for a second there _ _   
_ _ what the hell was that about _

_ I can tell how horny you are by how you text lol _ _   
_ _ “U doing anything?” is how you start sexting _

Now Kibum’s definitely bright red. This is embarrassing, humiliating even. How the fuck does Minho notice this stuff?

_ If you want something to actually happen, you should call me _ _   
_ _ ;) _

Kibum has to set his phone down and take a moment to think. Is Minho being serious right now? Somehow it feels like things are going a little too fast.

Then again, they have years of history together. It’s not like they’re strangers. Maybe this is just the natural progression of things, at least for them.

_ this better not be a joke _

Kibum’s phone buzzes with an incoming call.

“And here I thought I was the desperate one,” Kibum says, setting the call to speaker. He wants to keep his hands free, after all. 

“I mean, I’m not one to turn down the prospect of phone sex,” Minho says, slow and breathy.

“ … Are you actually jacking off right now?”

Minho hums. “Are you?”

“Not yet,” Kibum says, “You haven’t given me a reason to start.”

“Right… I always have to do the work here,” Minho teases, his voice dropping lower, “Whatever you say, princess.”

“Again with that nickname,” Kibum scoffs, ignoring how it makes his gut feel warm.

“Describes you perfectly,” Minho says languidly, “All you do is sit back and take everything that’s given to you. So spoiled.”

“Are we actually going to have phone sex or are you just going to make fun of me?”

"Doesn't that get you off anyways?" Minho says, and Kibum makes a scandalized sound. Minho chuckles, nice and low in his throat, and Kibum bites his lip.

“Yesterday, when I said I wanted to fuck you, I meant it,” Minho says.

Kibum hums, letting one hand wander down to rest on top of his stomach. “In the cubicle? How bold.”

“We’ve done worse,” Minho says. Kibum shudders at the memories. There was that hotel in Japan, with the windows that spanned the whole height of the wall. Or the stairs going up to Kibum’s apartment. Even Minho’s balcony— in the middle of the night, at least, Kibum drooling around Minho’s fingers in his mouth and desperately trying to keep quiet.

“Someone could’ve walked in on us,” Kibum breathes, his hand slowly moving even further downwards, stopping just at the base of his dick. He can imagine it now, the two of them freezing when they hear the door open, the adrenaline rush of being so close to being discovered. He gently starts palming at himself, letting Minho hear his soft grunts.

“You would’ve enjoyed that,” Minho says slowly, “You’re probably imagining it right now, aren’t you?”

Kibum whimpers, caught in the act. “What would you do—” he says, voice cracking slightly, “ — If that happened?”

“I’d make you shut up, of course,” Minho says, his voice rumbling through the speaker, “You can be  _ so  _ noisy, especially when you want to get caught.”

“How would you make me shut up?” Kibum presses, stroking himself through his underwear. His boxers are already starting to feel tight, and he shifts, rolling over and pressing himself against his sheets.

“With my fingers, maybe,” Minho hums, and Kibum moans in return, “Hm… Or maybe I’d push you onto your knees.”

Kibum gasps. How is Minho still so calm? It just makes the whole thing even hotter, the idea that Kibum’s slowly unravelling while Minho simply listens, telling him such filthy things like he was just talking about the weather.

“Minho,” Kibum says, “Fuck, please tell me you’re getting off to this too.” 

“Of course I am,” Minho grunts, “I’m just not loud like you are.”

Kibum pouts. “I want to hear you,” he whines, “I can’t be the only one.”

Minho gives a breathy laugh, and Kibum hears him shifting slightly. “Whatever you say, princess.”

Kibum licks his lips, shuffling closer to his phone to turn the volume up. He hears Minho groan, and if Kibum listens hard enough he thinks he can hear the sound of something slick.

“Tell me what you’re doing,” he says, “Unless you want me to imagine.”

Minho chuckles. “Let me show you, then.”

_ Incoming video call…  _ pops up on Kibum’s screen, and he presses it embarrassingly fast. He manages to prop up his phone against a pillow, just in time to see Minho on screen, casually relaxed on his couch with his cock in his hand. Minho’s staring right into the camera as he slowly jerks himself off, and Kibum can see the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes heavily.

“Hey,” Minho says, “Show me too.”

Kibum gulps, adjusting himself so he can be seen better. He pulls the waistband of his boxers down, getting a little thrill from their slight size difference. It’s probably all the working out Minho does. Does that even affect your dick?

He starts stroking himself as well, trying to match Minho’s rhythm. They’re not even talking anymore, just watching each other. Minho’s always been more on the quiet side, unless Kibum really pushes him, so Kibum tries to be quiet too, so he can hear the subtle grunts and groans Minho makes. He bites his lip, fingers circling the head of his dick just the way he likes it.

“I wish that was my mouth on you right now,” Kibum blurts out. Minho leans his head back and moans, the loudest sound he’s made so far, and Kibum feels a little proud.

“You can’t just say shit like that without warning,” Minho laughs, spreading his legs wider, “Are you close?”

Kibum nods. He figures it’s embarrassingly obvious, the way his dick is hard and leaking against his stomach.

“Good,” Minho says, “I want to see you come first.”

Kibum whimpers, pulling his shirt up so he can play with his nipples, pinching them between his fingers until he squirms, pushing himself to his limit. Minho doesn’t stop staring, watching him as he squirms.

“Minho,” Kibum pants, “Look at  _ me.”  _ Thankfully, he doesn’t need to say anything else, because Minho shifts from watching his hands, to looking straight into Kibum’s eyes. That’s all Kibum needs to tip him over the edge, letting out a whimper as he tenses up.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Minho pants, and now it’s Kibum’s turn to stare as Minho thrusts into his own fist, head tipped back so Kibum can watch the way his Adam’s apple moves as his breathing jumps. Minho finishes with a long groan, slumping into the couch. “Fuck,” Minho grunts, breathing heavily.

Kibum wheezes out a laugh, “You can say that again.”

“Mmm… Maybe we should do this more often,” Minho says, reaching for some tissues off-screen.

“Just let me know,” Kibum smirks, “Are we going to make this a thing?”

“I guess,” Minho laughs, “Forgot how good this is.”

“So it’s settled, then,” Kibum says, licking his hand clean just to rile Minho up a little more. “Text me. Or I’ll text you. Whatever happens first.”

Minho hums affirmative. “I should clean up,” he says, “Maybe we can talk again later?”

“Yeah,” Kibum says with a small smile, and it strangely feels like he’s falling in love again.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s still a little awkward inviting Minho over  _ just _ for sex, so Kibum makes the excuse of them watching some shitty Netflix movie together.

Said movie is now playing in the background as Kibum gives Minho head.

“You know Netflix actually has some good movies, right?” Minho says, one hand resting gently on the back of Kibum’s neck.

Kibum makes a muffled scoffing sound, before pulling off with an embarrassingly wet  _ pop. _ “If it was a good movie, you’d be ignoring me,” he says, wiping drool off his chin.

Minho snorts, and Kibum ignores the way his heart skips a beat. “Come here,” he says, and Kibum lets himself be pulled up to sit on Minho’s lap.

“If you say something cheesy, I’ll kick you out,” Kibum huffs.

Minho grins, settling his hands on Kibum’s waist. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Kibum replies. He can feel Minho’s hard-on pressing against the front of his shorts, and he shifts a bit. Minho’s eyes flutter shut, and his grip on Kibum’s waist tightens as Kibum slowly starts to grind against him. Minho hums, pushing Kibum against him even more as his grip moves downwards to cup Kibum's ass. 

Kibum finds himself breathing out a moan, Minho’s hands hot through the fabric of his boxers. He braces his hands on the back of the couch so he can move better, pushing against Minho’s crotch, and then pushing back into Minho’s hands.

“Fuck,” Minho grunts. He reaches down to pull Kibum’s boxers to the side, and Kibum spreads his legs.

When he grazes a finger against Kibum’s hole, he realizes it’s already slick. He stops.

“You’re… “

Kibum swallows. “I couldn’t help it,” he says.

Minho pushes two fingers in slowly, and Kibum moans almost immediately.

"I told you, I'm ready." 

“Just wanted to make sure,” Minho huffs, “Can’t have you hurting yourself because you’re too horny.”

_ You’re one to talk,  _ Kibum thinks. “Maybe I want it to hurt a little bit,” he says instead, pulling at Minho’s hair to make him look up.

Minho rolls his eyes. "Right. You always were a bit of a masochist."

Kibum snorts. “Just hurry up, we don’t have all day.”

“So bossy,” Minho sighs, bringing his free hand behind himself to fish a condom out of his back pocket. Kibum raises an eyebrow when he sees it, smirking and taking it from Minho.

“Someone’s prepared,” he teases, waving it in front of Minho’s face before opening it. He moves back a little, just enough to give him the space to take Minho’s dick out of his pants. Minho stares at Kibum’s hands as he rolls the condom on him, and Kibum can’t help but run his fingertips along the prominent veins, just to show off.

Minho’s already pushing his shorts to the side, and Kibum’s glad he picked out his loosest, worn out boxers to wear. He shifts closer, pressing himself against Minho’s chest. In this position, Minho looks up at him just slightly, which is a welcome change from how it feels like Minho’s always looming over him. A surprisingly gentle kiss is pressed to his collarbone, and Kibum makes a soft sound.

“C’mon,” Kibum breathes, pressing back against Minho’s hand, “Don’t keep me waiting.” He feels Minho huff against his skin, before moving Kibum slightly until he can feel Minho pressed against his entrance.

Minho scrapes his teeth against Kibum’s skin right as he pushes inside, and Kibum gasps. Kibum starts pushing himself down, groaning low as he gets used to the stretch. He can feel Minho breathe slowly against his skin, like he’s trying to control himself.

It’s good to know Minho’s just as into this as Kibum is. Kibum grunts once he’s fully settled, moving his hips to find his sweet spot. Minho licks his lips, snaking a hand up Kibum’s shirt to pinch his nipples, making Kibum whimper.

“I wanna see you put in work for once,” Minho says, and Kibum can hear his smug smile, “You’re always so spoiled, you know?”

Kibum huffs. “I already sucked you off.”

“I meant work for  _ your  _ orgasm,” Minho says, twisting Kibum’s nipple for emphasis, “And I want to watch.”

Kibum groans. He moves to rest his hands behind him, on Minho’s legs, and slowly lifts his hips up, feeling Minho’s cock slide out. He does shallow motions first, partly to get himself used to the stretch a little more, and partly because he’ll probably fall backwards if he went too fast. Minho watches, gaze even more intense in person, taking in every subtle movement Kibum makes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Kibum whimpers, face flushing.

“You wanted me to look at you the other day,” Minho says, resting his hands behind his head, “Besides, where else am I going to look, hm?”

Kibum grunts, turning red from being called out. He doesn’t respond, instead focusing on setting a steady pace for himself, tightening around Minho on every upward motion. Kibum closes his eyes, focusing on the pleasure, the steady movement. He can still feel Minho’s eyes on him, but it’s a lot less embarrassing like this.

He shudders when he feels Minho rest his hands on his waist, pressing his fingers into the soft skin there. “Cute,” Minho mutters. Kibum can feel his palms getting sweaty.

Swallowing roughly, he rests his weight on one hand, so he can shift to move the other hand to Minho’s shoulder. Gripping tight, he moves his one hand to Minho’s other shoulder, steadying himself on the new angle. In this position, Minho hits his sweet spot better, and he groans when he starts moving again. It’s easier to move faster this time, and he finds himself building up a rhythm where he can hear the sound of skin on skin, even over the movie’s audio.

Minho’s still frustratingly steady, his hands a solid weight on Kibum’s waist. Kibum still doesn’t know how Minho has so much self-control.

“At least kiss me,” he pants, opening his eyes to look at Minho, but Minho simply smiles. Kibum knows that smile. It’s the smile Minho has when he wants Kibum to beg for it.

“Please,” Kibum adds with a gulp, “Please kiss me.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Minho says, pleased, pulling Kibum closer by the waist to press their lips together. Minho starts to move Kibum too, lifting him up and pushing him down onto his dick, making Kibum gasp and groan into his mouth.

Kibum’s dick is straining against his shorts, but he’s embarrassingly close, even if it’s been untouched this whole time. He shudders when Minho sets the pace even faster, his insistence about Kibum doing all the work flying out the window. Kibum has to break from the kiss to catch his breath, so Minho moves to his neck instead, sucking at the skin there like he wants to leave a mark.

“Minho,” Kibum gasps, nails digging into Minho’s shoulders.

“I know,” Minho says, moving to kiss him underneath his jaw, “I know.”

Kibum whimpers, falling forward into Minho’s arms as Minho moves him up and down, shivering when he finally comes inside his shorts. But Minho doesn’t stop just yet, and Kibum chokes on a moan, the pleasure just right at the edge of too much, but it’s  _ so  _ good, and he feels like he’s going to lose his mind.

Minho growls, holding Kibum tight as he starts thrusting up into him. Kibum cries out, clinging to Minho as he feels his world spinning, the axis being Minho. Just Minho, only Minho, always Minho… 

Face buried into Kibum’s chest, Kibum finally whimpers when he comes, the sound strangely vulnerable. Kibum barely hears it even, too distracted by his heartbeat pounding in his head.

“Holy fuck,” Minho says, wheezing out a laugh, breath warm against Kibum’s chest.

“That’s one way to put it,” Kibum says. He grunts when Minho slowly pulls out, still sensitive, and he sighs into Minho’s hair. 

Minho shifts a bit to rest his chin on Kibum’s shoulder, squinting at the television. “This movie’s still on?” he snorts. Kibum can’t help but chuckle, trying to look back to see the screen too.

“Maybe I’ll leave a review,” he says, “One star. Absolute shit, but I got laid while watching it so I guess.”

Minho laughs, loud and obnoxious, and Kibum remembers how much he loves that sound. It feels like they’re still together as lovers for a moment, and Kibum’s chest aches. He shuffles off of Minho’s lap, avoiding Minho’s questioning look.

“I need to wash up, silly,” he lies, and he walks to the bathroom and closes the door. 

He waits there for what seems like an eternity, until Minho gets the hint, knocks on the door, and softly tells him he has to go back home.

Kibum starts crying once Minho leaves, but it’s okay. Nobody has to know. Especially not Minho.

***

The next time they fuck, they don’t even make it to Kibum’s bedroom. Or his couch, even.

It’s the middle of the night, Kibum having texted Minho on a whim a few minutes earlier. It turned out Minho was at a bar near his place, having gone out for some sort of event that Kibum probably doesn’t have the net worth to understand. 

Kibum’s bathroom was closer to the door, so he dragged Minho there for some semblance of privacy. He didn’t want to wake up to noise complaints from his neighbors, after all. 

“Wait a minute,” Kibum huffs, leaning over his bathroom sink and trying not to hit his head on the faucet. Minho’s got two fingers inside him, and Kibum knows he’s a few minutes away from embarrassing himself and begging Minho to fuck him against the sink.

Minho laughs under his breath. “You weren’t saying that earlier,” he says. He crooks his fingers in a way that makes Kibum shudder, humming to himself like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Kibum rests his forehead against his bathroom mirror, holding back a whimper as Minho kisses his neck. He looks like a wreck already, sweat beading at his temples and his breath fogging up the mirror. 

“Do you want me to stop?” Minho teases, pulling his fingers out slowly. 

Kibum curses under his breath. “I said  _ wait,  _ not stop. Two very different things.”

Minho makes a small noise of agreement, leaning down to breathe in the scent of Kibum’s skin. Minho’s warm breath against his clammy skin makes Kibum shiver slightly, gripping onto his sink top a little tighter.

It’s funny, in a way. Just the other day, Kibum was in this bathroom to run away from Minho, and now he’s here with him. It’s like Minho just keeps finding his way back into his life, and foolishly, Kibum keeps letting him in. 

When Kibum feels like he can breathe again, he nudges Minho, making eye contact with him in the mirror.

“I’m ready.” 

Minho slowly pushes his fingers back in as Kibum breathes out, trying to keep himself calm. Minho's fingered him to orgasm so many times that it feels like his body already expects it. He already feels on edge, and Minho hasn't even put his fingers in all the back in yet.

“C’mon,” Kibum says, gritting his teeth in sheer anticipation, “We don’t have all night.”

Minho scoffs and pushes his fingers in until the last knuckle. Kibum cries out, pushing back against Minho’s fingers when he slightly draws them back, feeling around for Kibum’s prostate.

“Stop squirming around,” Minho says with a chuckle.

“You’re taking  _ so long _ ,” Kibum whines.

“Just a while ago you were telling me to slow down,” Minho teases, watching Kibum’s face pinch in the mirror when Minho finally presses against his sweet spot.

He moans, tightening around Minho’s fingers as Minho sets a steady rhythm. He keeps that rhythm consistent, even as Kibum squirms and whimpers. Minho’s so annoyingly patient sometimes.

After some time, Kibum’s shaking so hard that he’s pretty much slumped on top of the sink now, head resting on one arm. Minho doesn’t stop, just keeps pressing against that sweet spot, driving Kibum up a wall and over the edge. His throat already feels sore, and he hasn’t even cried out yet, simply hoarse from his harsh breathing.

Minho rubs a soothing hand down his back again, and Kibum exhales loudly, the gentle touch a contrast against the intense pressure inside him. Minho hums, or maybe he mumbles something, Kibum isn’t sure… 

“Close,” Kibum says, voice ragged, because it’s all he can think to say right now, body hot and thrumming with want. 

“I know,” Minho says, and Kibum gets a sick sense of déjà-vu.

Now’s not the time to think about that though, not when Minho shifts his wrist, pressing more insistently at Kibum’s prostate, and Kibum can already feel his thoughts slipping away.

Minho keeps fingering Kibum as he cries out, whole body shaking as he comes. Kibum feels like he’s floating above ground for a moment, like even gravity is bending to his feelings.

When he feels like he’s back in his body, Kibum realizes Minho’s leaning most of his body on top of him. Kibum can also clearly feel Minho’s dick against his ass, and he snorts at how predictable Minho is.

“Aren’t you going to fuck me?” Kibum asks, one brow raised.

Minho flushes, looking away shyly, which Kibum hasn’t seen him do in a while. “I… want to come on your face.” 

Kibum licks his lips. “That can be arranged.” He turns around, slowly moving to sit on haunches. Shy Minho is a rare thing in the bedroom (bathroom?), and Kibum loves the thrill of power it gives him, even for just a moment. 

Minho gulps when Kibum unbuttons his slacks, gently pushing his hand away. “Just… stay still,” Minho whispers, and Kibum smiles smugly.

“You’re cute when you’re like this,” Kibum says, and Minho flushes even more. Minho doesn’t even answer, choosing to grip at the bathroom sink for support as he takes his dick out.

Kibum licks his lips, showing off just so he can hear Minho curse under his breath. Minho starts off slow, keeping his eyes glued on Kibum all the time. Kibum notices that he’s using the same hand he fingered Kibum to orgasm with, and he squirms in place.

“You just love my face, don’t you?” Kibum breathes, watching as Minho’s hand moves faster. “Tell me how much you love my face.”

“Of course I love it,” Minho groans, squeezing his fist tighter around his cock, “You’re just so—”

Kibum doesn’t get to hear the rest, because Minho’s tensing up, and Kibum knows that means he’s going to come. He closes his eyes and opens his mouth, because he knows that’s what Minho likes. He moans when he feels it splatter onto his face, licking around his lips just to hear Minho groan his name.

“You’re unbelievable,” Minho grunts, and Kibum feels him wipe the skin around his eyes clean. He blinks his eyes open, looking up at Minho with a smile.

“I get that a lot,” he chuckles.  _ But I like the way you say it the most,  _ he thinks.

Minho grunts, wiping sweat off his forehead with his relatively cleaner hand. He’s got a watch on the same hand, and he squints at the display.

"It's almost three in the morning," Minho clicks his tongue. “Gonna be hell finding good parking at this hour.”

Kibum looks up at Minho, watching the flex of his jaw as he thinks. He wonders if letting Minho stay the night would cross a line somehow. Kibum’s never let any hookup stay in his house for too long. But Minho’s also his friend, and he knows refusing would probably strain the strange, delicate dynamic between them.

Honestly, Kibum’s just nervous about what it means for him. He barely had a month to get over Minho, before finding his way back into his life. Even if they meet up  _ just  _ for sex, Kibum can’t seem to stop the way his heart yearns for what they used to have. He feels like if he keeps Minho at a safe distance, then they can keep being just friends.

But would he risk losing Minho fully?

“You can stay for the night,” Kibum says, looking away from Minho’s questioning gaze.

There’s a moment of silence, and Kibum’s afraid Minho’s going to reject him, especially after what he pulled last time. But Minho glances at his watch again, and sighs, pushing his hair back.

“I guess I’ll be sleeping on your couch tonight,” he says with a shy smile, “Sorry for the inconvenience.”

“You’re my friend, Minho,” Kibum says slowly, “It’s not a problem.”

Friend.

That’s all they are now. Friends. 

***

Kibum wakes up to the sound of his coffee machine running, and he grumbles, turning over and burying his head into pillow. Since when was Minho an early bird?! When they were together, Minho could sleep well into the afternoon without realizing.

“You’re up early,” Kibum says, watching Minho shuffle around his apartment.

“I’m going out,” Minho says.

“Out?” Kibum asks.

“ _ Out,” _ Minho repeats, “With a friend.”

Kibum blanks. “With a  _ friend?” _ he says, suspicious.

Minho sighs, clenching his jaw. “Am I not allowed to go meet a friend?”

“I was just asking,” Kibum says defensively. There’s no way in hell he’s telling Minho that he was jealous, especially not with how they are right now.

“You said this… thing was no strings attached,” Minho says, voice rising, “How is this any different?”

“I didn’t say anything!” Kibum shouts back, “Stop being so damn paranoid.”

“You’re literally spelling it out with your face right now,” Minho spits, “You can’t play dumb with me, and you know that!” 

“I just— You could’ve _ told _ me, at least! Just a little heads up!” Kibum yells again, and he forces himself to ignore how his own voice wavers.

“You can’t tell me that this doesn’t really matter, and then get mad when I don’t tell you every damn detail of my life,” Minho says, exasperated, “My life doesn’t revolve around you.” 

Kibum falls silent, and all he can do is stare at Minho.

“At least, not anymore,” Minho mutters, just the edge of too soft for Kibum to hear. “I have to go. Don’t wanna be late.”

Kibum doesn’t stop him.

***

Driving home, part of Minho feels like shit for picking a fight with Kibum like that, but a part of him also feels vindicated, somehow. Kibum always treated their  _ arrangement  _ like it was something meaningless to him, something to just pass the time. Seeing Kibum get riled up and jealous meant that it wasn’t just Minho who still couldn’t let go.

Anyways, Tiffany is genuinely  _ just  _ a friend, that much is true.

Minho met her in high school, when she was a transfer student fresh from the States. She ended up getting attached to his sister, Sooyoung, one of the few people in the school who spoke English decently, and they were inseparable since then. He remembers coming home from soccer practice one day to find the two of them in the living room, painting their nails and gossiping in two languages at once. At first, she was strictly Sooyoung’s friend, but with how much time Minho spent with his sister, it ended up with all three of them becoming friends.

He also remembers how Tiffany shyly confessed to him when he was a junior, and how he had to awkwardly reject her and face Sooyoung’s wrath for making her best friend cry. But teenage crushes only lasted so long, and soon enough, they were back to being good friends.

Of course, he still thinks about Tiffany’s high school crush on him. He wonders what would’ve happened if he felt the same way. Maybe they would’ve been those annoying high school sweethearts, like those kids Minho knew that somehow got married and had families with the first person they fell in love with, never looking outside the walls of their school.

Maybe life would’ve been a little bit easier. Tiffany was already a family friend, and Minho wouldn’t have had to hide.

_ You would’ve never met Kibum, that’s for sure,  _ his mind says suddenly,  _ Would you be happy with that? _

He sighs, shaking his head. He can keep imagining all he wants, but he keeps wandering back to Kibum.

_ Today isn’t about Kibum,  _ he reminds himself.

Once he gets home, he takes a quick shower, washing off the scent of sex from himself. Maybe he’s just imagining it, but whenever he comes back from Kibum’s place, he feels like Kibum’s perfume has latched onto him somehow, reminding him that he can’t run away.

It’s  _ not  _ a date, so Minho knows he doesn’t have to dress up. But still, his pride doesn’t let him go out wearing just anything. He eventually settles on jeans and a black shirt, throwing on a leather jacket on top.

He frowns at himself in his mirror. His hair is still messy, but he looks fine otherwise. 

_ Your eyebags are getting darker, though, _ he thinks, the voice in his head sounding a little too much like Kibum. Minho scoffs, grabbing his keys and turning around to leave.

The drive to Onyu is laughably fast. Minho doesn’t even make it past two songs on the radio when he sees Onyu Ramyeon’s sign to his left.

Minho turns to park, and he laughs wryly as he looks up at the sign. Really, out of all the places to go, Tiffany picked  _ this  _ one. She probably missed genuine Korean food.

He sends her a quick  _ I’m already here  _ text, and sits down on one of the chairs outside. There’s already a few people inside, but nothing like the crowd from the last time he came by. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, still a little damp from his shower.

After a few minutes, he hears loud heels on the concrete sidewalk, and he rolls his eyes fondly. 

“I could’ve driven you here, you know,” Minho says, turning down to let Tiffany hug him, “How many times do we have to tell you to not wear heels in the subway?” 

“They’re not even that high,” Tiffany scoffs, “Now are you going to scold my fashion choices, or are we going to eat?”

Minho laughs, leading her inside. They’re seated by a young man who doesn’t even get the chance to give them their menus before Tiffany’s rambling about her orders. Minho lets Tiffany talk, talk, and talk some more, about California and her flight and her hotel until their orders are ready. Minho feels like he’s had enough of talking for today already.

“God, I’ve missed Korean food  _ so _ much,” Tiffany groans when she sees the waiter bring their food over, “It’s all fusion shit in Cali and I’m like, hello?”

Minho chuckles. “Ah, poor Tiffany,” he jokes, “Estranged from the motherland for a year.” Tiffany’s ordered a big bowl of the house special, along with a whole array of side dishes that seems to use up half of their table.

Tiffany sticks her tongue out, emptying a small bowl of kimchi onto her noodles. “You’re lucky you can eat here whenever you want,” she sighs.

Minho hums, shoving a big serving into his mouth. He’s hungrier than he thought he was, probably because he wasn’t even able to have a cup of coffee before leaving Kibum’s apartment. 

He was honestly moving on autopilot, fixing up the apartment as much as he could while also getting his favorite mix of coffee ready. It was just another day waking up in Kibum’s place, until the fantasy shattered around him when he realized he couldn’t find his coffee mug. 

“Hey,” Tiffany says, jolting Minho out of his thoughts, “Earth to Minho?” 

Minho shakes his head. “Sorry, I was just. Lost in thought I guess.”

Tiffany pouts, patting his shoulder. “Something wrong?”

“I got into a fight with… a friend of mine,” Minho says. 

_ Friend. _ Kibum is his friend now, nothing more, and he needs to remember that.

“Anyways,” Minho says, “No point dwelling on that.”

Tiffany gives him a look before turning back to her food, and a part of Minho is worried that she can see right through him.

The rest of their meal goes by without any more Kibum-related spacing out from Minho. Minho pays, and offers to drive Tiffany back to her hotel. It’s what a good friend would do, after all. 

***

“Sorry I was out of it for most of tonight,” Minho sighs, fidgeting on the steps of the hotel. “I’ll make it up to you next time.”

Tiffany pouts. “Oh, Minho, I’d love to, but… I fly back to Cali next week. And I’m busy until then meeting up with everyone else.” 

Minho stares at her. “Already?” He could’ve sworn she was leaving the week after that.

Tiffany laughs. “Hey, don’t feel bad! We can still keep in touch, y’know? Maybe pop in when Soo and I are video-calling.”

“If you want to see her argue with me, sure,” Minho snorts, “But I’ll try.”

“... Anyways, I hope you patch things up with your friend soon,” she says suddenly, “You probably love them a lot if you’re this stressed over an argument, you know?”

Minho looks away and sighs. “I guess you could say that.”

Tiffany smiles gently. “Well, I still had a good time anyways. Don’t worry too much about it.”

***

On the way home, Minho can’t help but go over what Tiffany said to him.

_ You probably love them a lot if you’re this stressed over an argument, you know? _

She doesn’t know the half of it, Minho thinks. He groans, gripping his steering wheel tighter.

Of course Minho loves Kibum a lot, there’s no doubt about it. They were together for two years, after all, and Minho even entertained the thought of proposing to him.

Minho sighs loudly, dropping his head to rest against the steering wheel. He feels his phone buzz with a notification, and he brings it out to check.

_ hey.  _ _   
_ _ can you drop by tomorrow? we need to talk. _

Minho should say no, because he knows how this will end. He’s been with Kibum long enough to know that Kibum’s too damn stubborn to admit he’s made a mistake. And Minho knows that he’s also too damn proud to back down when he  _ knows _ Kibum was the one in the wrong.

They’ve done this a million times. They’ll tiptoe around each other until someone cracks, and then they’ll fall into bed together like nothing happened at all.

It was novel the first couple of times, the both of them venting out their anger and frustrations at each other without even saying a word. But they’ve gotten older, and having Kibum begging Minho to fuck him until he can’t walk out of some warped sense of guilt is just getting tiring.

He just wants Kibum to say  _ sorry.  _

_ You can’t even say sorry yourself,  _ his brain helpfully supplies,  _ You’re just as selfish and stubborn as he is. And in the end, you’ll do whatever he wants because you don’t want to lose him. _

Minho stares at his phone’s screen. Deleting the message would be so easy… But he finds himself typing a message in reply.

_ I’ll be there.  _

He laughs bitterly. He’s such a goddamn idiot, isn’t he? No matter how many times he tells himself there’s no point, he comes running back to Kibum all the same.


	4. Chapter 4

Kibum was  _ honestly  _ going to apologize. He told Minho he wanted to talk, and he was already going over what he would say in his head. He even called up Jonghyun for help, spending hours trying to navigate their situation. But things just… happened, and now they’re in Kibum’s bed. Kibum wonders how they managed to last two years if they dealt with every argument by fucking.

Kibum moans against the pillow as Minho fingers him open, squirming every time he pushes in just a little deeper.

“That’s enough,” he pants.

Minho’s quiet for a moment. “You sure?”

_ You’d think with all the times we’ve done this—  _

“Yeah,” Kibum says instead, “You know where the condoms are.” 

Kibum hears his drawer slide open, and he knows Minho’s probably furrowing his brows right now, thinking of something to say. Kibum knows him too well.

But Minho doesn’t say a word.

Kibum buries a sigh into his pillow. The atmosphere is pretty much ruined by now, but he’s still hard, and they’ve gone too far to not finish it now.

“Hey,” Minho says quietly, “We can stop if you want.”

Kibum looks at him over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “We’ve gone this far.”

Minho only gives him a look, and Kibum huffs. “I don’t want you to be my therapist right now,” he says, “I want you to rail me until I can’t talk back.”

Minho’s silent for a moment, and Kibum wonders if this is the last straw. Maybe this is what’ll make Minho get up and walk out of the door. Maybe this is what’ll make Minho see just how much of a mess Kibum actually is.

But Minho only sighs and shakes his head, and Kibum closes his eyes. Resting his head back on his pillow, Kibum hears Minho open a condom packet. He angles his hips up silently, letting Minho spread his legs open and press himself against Kibum’s hole.

There’s a moment of silence, one last bit of hesitation. Kibum grits his teeth, and he swears he hears Minho mumble something under his breath. Before Kibum can say anything, he feels Minho push inside with one thrust, knocking the breath out of Kibum’s lungs.

“You asked for this,” Minho hisses. But his voice is soft, as if he’s only trying to convince himself. He pushes Kibum down with a hand on the back of his neck, pulling out nearly all the way before slamming back in. Kibum just moans loudly in return, gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turn white. He knows everything’s going to  _ hurt  _ later, but he doesn’t care. In fact, he revels in it, loses himself in the way Minho thrusts into him, the way Minho just uses him to chase his own release. It’s easier like this, Kibum thinks. Getting roughed up a bit only hurts for a little while, and then everything goes back to the way it was. Talking is more trouble than it’s worth.

If he keeps telling himself that, it all hurts just a little less.

When Minho reaches down to jerk Kibum off to the same time as his thrusts, Kibum almost cries. He tells himself it’s because he’s really fucking overstimulated, and not because he hates how he and Minho have ended up like this, again. He sobs into his pillow when he comes, and Minho runs a hand down his back, as if to comfort him. Kibum inhales deeply, breathing out with a shudder.

“Keep going,” Kibum says, ignoring how wrecked he sounds, and not in the sexy way. “Use me.”

He knows Minho’s mad, knows it by the way he breathes in sharply, the way he curls his fist around Kibum aggressively. Even when he’s being rough, Minho is still sweet, still caring, still concerned about Kibum’s masochistic tendencies.

This Minho isn’t. But even then, it doesn’t even feel like he’s hurting Kibum. Minho seems… sad, even. Kibum even thinks he feels tears dripping onto his back.

Minho doesn’t even make a sound when he finishes, just breathes out hot in between Kibum’s shoulders. He finishes Kibum off quickly, like he’s just going through the motions, and Kibum cries.

At the very least, Minho pretends he doesn’t hear him. Kibum’s thankful for that.

Minho doesn’t say anything as he gets up from the bed to get dressed. Kibum is both thankful and disappointed, wordlessly watching him from where he’s curled up in his sheets. He wonders if saying sorry would change anything at this point. Maybe Minho would smile and forgive him, and then he’d be back in Kibum’s arms. Or maybe Minho would think he was playing some sort of sick joke.

Or maybe Minho would just give him a sad look and leave, just like the day he told Minho to get out of his life.

So Kibum doesn’t say anything, even as Minho glances back at him, like he wants to say something too. Minho hesitates at the door, and Kibum watches the rise and fall of his back as he sighs.

“Guess I’ll be going, then,” Minho says, not even looking at Kibum as he opens the door and leaves.

Kibum can feel the tears welling up in his eyes a second time, and he scoffs at himself.

_ jjong _ _  
_ _ you wont believe what happened _ __  
_ …  _ _  
_ _ i fucked up. _

***

A few ignored texts and some missed calls later, Jonghyun barges in, probably using the spare key Kibum hid under the potted plant by his doorway. Kibum doesn’t even move to stop him or kick him out.

He hears his bedroom door open, followed by Jonghyun sighing. He must look like a right piece of work like this, Kibum thinks, naked and crying under his bedsheets.

“You’re moping,” Jonghyun points out helpfully.

“What about it?” Kibum groans, not even bothering to look at him.

Jonghyun sighs.”I know you, Kibum. You don’t mope and pine after your exes like this.”

“I shouldn’t have started… whatever  _ this  _ is in the first place.”

“Why are you so scared to let him go?” Jonghyun presses, “You’ve left other guys for less.”

“If you’re going to keep grilling me then just leave,” Kibum spits, turning away to bury his face into a pillow.

He hears Jonghyun sigh, again, before he gives in and closes the door. Kibum listens and waits for his footsteps to fade out as he walks down the hallway.

Kibum closes his eyes.

It’s not that Kibum thinks he isn’t good enough, he’s sure he’s above the rest, it’s just that there’s always been this nagging feeling that maybe Minho is just too  _ good _ for him.

Kibum has money,  _ sure, _ he’s not poor by any means. He lives in a nice apartment building in Seoul, which is more than a lot of people can afford. But Minho’s a rich kid through and through, with his Cheongdam unit and his tailored suits. Kibum’s just some guy from Daegu working his ass off at a dance studio. They’re still worlds apart.

It’s like… Minho is the kind of man who deserves a wife and kids, living happily in some rich, closed-off suburb. Minho  _ could  _ be that kind of man, and yet he chose to stay with Kibum for two years, to stay with him even if they had to deal with questioning gazes and fumbled pronouns. He remembers Minho being nervous about introducing Kibum to his parents.Even though that didn’t turn out badly at all, Kibum can’t forget how stressed Minho was. 

Hell, if Kibum had a choice he would definitely choose the safer, easier option. He can’t get why Minho would willingly sacrifice so much just for him. Is he really worth all that?

Kibum groans, burying his face into his pillow again. If he truly didn’t want Minho in his life anymore, this would all be so easy. He’s done it before, packing up his heart and moving on. And he honestly thought he did it with Minho too, until he saw him again and any illusions he had of moving on came crashing down.

That’s the thing, really. He still… loves Minho. Cares for him. And it’s terrifying. So terrifying that he can count on his hands the number of times he told Minho he loved him, in the span of two years. It stings when he realizes it, and he can’t even imagine what  _ Minho  _ must feel. He needs to stop this before it hurts them even more. 

Kibum feels himself slowly falling asleep. He’ll talk to Minho, somehow. He’ll fix this, even if it means breaking his own heart. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s told Minho to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is relatively shorter bc the next one is a doozy folks :^)


	5. Chapter 5

It’s been a week since the “incident” at Kibum’s place, and Minho’s done a great job of fending off questions so far. After all, everyone’s too polite to actually press Minho for the truth.

Everyone… except Taemin, who unceremoniously showed up to his building earlier and demanded that Minho let him in. He caused enough of a stir to make the receptionist worried, which Minho is still a little irked by. Granted, if Taemin  _ told  _ him he was coming, Minho would've lied and told him he was busy. Taemin's smart like that, unfortunately.

So here they are, sitting in Minho’s apartment, Taemin having successfully forced the story so far out of Minho.

“I think both of you need to relax,” Taemin says, placing his feet up on the coffee table, “It’s entirely possible to have a relationship without overthinking, you know?”

“That’s because you and your girlfriend share one brain cell,” Minho huffs, “Get your socks off my table.”

“See! That’s the thing,” Taemin beams, and Minho’s never seen someone so happy to be called dense. “You and Kibum just waste time thinking about what you’re gonna do or say without, you know, actually  _ doing _ it. You’re both having arguments with each other in your heads, and it’s not helping anyone.”

Minho stares at him, brows furrowed, because Taemin giving him relationship advice is one thing, but Taemin giving  _ good _ advice… ?!

“The two of you aren’t Sun Tzu! It doesn’t have to be like this,” Taemin says, gesturing wildly, “That is, unless Sun Tzu was sleeping with his enemies but that’s besides the point.”

“Since when are you so… mature?” Minho says, both bewildered and in awe.

Taemin huffs proudly. “Well, I’ve had to pick up slack since you started acting like a mopey teenager,” he says, “And it looks like I’m great at this being mature stuff.” 

Minho snorts.

“He really cares about you, you know,” Taemin mumbles, “I think… he’s scared of how much you mean to him.”

“... What?”

Taemin jolts, eyes wide. “Oh, I shouldn’t be saying this, you should be talking about this with  _ him,”  _ he laughs awkwardly, suddenly standing up.

“Hey,” Minho says, reaching up to grab the end of Taemin’s oversized sleeve, “You can’t say something like that and just leave.”

Taemin gives him a pointed glance, and shakes his hand free. “Anyways! I promised Seulgi we’d meet at the Trickeye museum, so I really have to go.”

“You’re leaving me alone in the middle of a relationship crisis for your own relationship?!” Minho says, half-joking and half-despairing at the fact.

Taemin smiles, one hand on the doorknob, and he gives Minho a little wave with his free hand. “I’m leaving you alone so you can actually solve your relationship crisis,” he snickers, “Have  _ fun!” _

“You—“ 

“Remember! Don’t think too much!” he calls out just before he shuts the door.

Minho leans back against the couch with a loud groan.

Taemin’s  _ right,  _ which is probably the most annoying thing about this. He’s right about Minho overthinking, and he’s right about how he keeps arguing with Kibum-inside-his-head instead of actually talking to the real Kibum.

***

“Oh, you’re looking for Mister Choi?,” the receptionist says, “He’s been going out quite a bit these past few weeks. Haven’t seen him come down for today though, so let me call him.” 

Kibum only smiles, hoping that it isn’t strained.

He’s lost his mind, he thinks. Going all the way to Cheongdam and finding Minho’s place was a blur, like he was in some sort of trance. But now, standing in front of the receptionist’s desk of some expensive building, Kibum feels his stomach fill up with dread.

The receptionist frowns. “That’s odd. He doesn’t seem to be answering.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” Kibum says, “Maybe he’s busy or…”

Before Kibum can even finish his sentence, an elevator in the lobby dings, and out steps no one other than Minho himself. Kibum would laugh, honestly, if he wasn’t frozen in place.

“Oh, Mister Choi, you’re—”

“Kibum,” Minho says, ignoring the receptionist, “You’re here?”

Kibum gulps. “Yeah… I. I wanted to talk to you.”

Thankfully the receptionist picks up on their awkwardness, and she goes back to handling paperwork, or at least pretending to. Either way, Kibum makes a mental note to thank her with something like chocolates later.

Minho takes a deep breath, and Kibum readies himself. Is Minho going to tell him to leave? Is he going to just ignore him and walk out the door?

“I was planning to go to your place to talk to  _ you,”  _ Minho says sheepishly, awkwardly scratching his head, “And then… here you are.”

Kibum shrugs. “Funny how that works, huh?”

“We’ll be going upstairs,” Minho says, finally turning his attention to the receptionist. She just gives him a nod and waves her hand, as if to say  _ Thank you please deal with this in private I don’t get paid enough for this! _

Kibum gives her an awkward bow, and walks towards Minho. He’s still nervous as hell, but knowing Minho wanted to talk to him too helps relax him a bit.

Just a bit though. Standing beside Minho and waiting for the elevator to come down is probably the most stressful few minutes of his life. Minho doesn't even look his way, awkwardly staring right at the elevator floor display and nowhere else.

It doesn’t get much better when the elevator arrives, the two of the awkwardly gesturing for the other to enter first. Eventually Minho gets in so the elevator doesn’t close on them, and Kibum shuffles inside with an awkward smile. 

The elevator trip is short, and Kibum finds himself standing right outside Minho’s door. He walks in silently, sitting on the couch like he’s never been there before, like Minho hasn’t fucked him into the cushions, like they don’t have a million and one memories together on the damn couch.

“So…” Minho says, sitting on the chair across from him.

Kibum gulps.  _ It’s now or never, _ he thinks. “We need to stop this,” he says, voice shaking, “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Minho asks, and it’s like everything suddenly stops.

“Huh?”

Minho looks away, the clench of his jaw letting Kibum know that he’s mulling over what to say next. “Is it because you’ve realized that you can’t stand me anymore?”

“What gave you that idea?” Kibum asks in disbelief. He’s spent all this time desperately clinging to Minho in any way he can, and Minho thinks Kibum  _ hates  _ him?!

“I thought this whole thing meant nothing to you,” Minho bristles, leaning back against his chair, “I thought… you were just angry and horny and needed to let it out.”

“You’ve got it all wrong,” Kibum says, voice strained, “This…  _ thing… _ it meant everything to me.” God, it sounds so pathetic coming out of his mouth, but Kibum can’t keep lying to himself anymore.

Kibum takes a shaky breath. “I thought I was over you, but then I wasn’t. But I was too fucking scared to say it. But, god, Minho,” Kibum says, “I just wanted you near me, in any stupid way possible. I thought this way it wouldn’t hurt as much, I thought I could work out all the feelings I had left, but I couldn’t.”

Minho stares at him, eyes wide, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. Kibum can’t blame him, honestly. He gets up from his chair, and Kibum gets the sinking feeling that Minho’s going to walk out of the room, that he’s said too little, too late…

And then Minho sits on the couch beside him and pulls him close, hugging him,  _ holding  _ him, and Kibum can’t hold back his tears. He’s crying into Minho’s chest, and he’s definitely getting tears and snot onto Minho’s shirt, but he can’t stop. It’s like everything just crashes into him like a wave, everything he’s been trying to hide, everything he’s been trying to ignore.

He’s crying so hard it takes a moment for him to realize that  _ Minho’s _ crying too. Minho, who held back his tears during the saddest movies, Minho, who always chose to suffer silently. He’s crying into Kibum’s hair, hands gripping tight in Kibum’s shirt.

“I thought it was just me,” Minho heaves, voice absolutely shot, “Still hung up on you. I was so scared that you’d figure it out, that you’d realize you didn’t need me… I was so scared that I’d be all alone again because I don’t know when to let go.”

Kibum sniffles. “I’m so sorry,” he says, “For being a coward.”

“I’m sorry too,” Minho says, “For not being honest.”

It feels strange letting everything out like that, but it doesn’t feel wrong. Instead, Kibum feels like the shame and lies wrapped around his shoulders are slowly being lifted off, and it feels like he can be honest with himself again.

He pulls back, keeping his hands on Minho’s chest so Minho knows he’s not leaving. Minho looks like a mess, honestly, eyes red and tears still streaking his cheeks, but Kibum’s sure he looks the same. He breathes out, long and shaky, and he meets Minho’s eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” Kibum blurts out, immediately flushing red, “I mean, if you’re okay—”

Minho smiles, his real, genuine smile. “Please,”

It’s almost instinct, the way they move closer, no matter how cheesy it sounds. Kibum kisses Minho, but now it’s slow and gentle, like he’s savoring every moment that they have together. There’s no hurry, no anger, and Kibum sighs wistfully into Minho’s mouth. They’re both a mess and definitely too gross to be doing this, but honestly, it feels like the most romantic kiss they’ve ever had.

They break apart for air, reluctantly, but Kibum finds himself leaning into the warmth of Minho’s chest again, holding him as close as he can.

“We really are something else, huh?” he says, and Minho laughs. They stay there for a little while longer, listening to each other’s heartbeats, their breathing slowly falling into the same rhythm.

“We should rest,” Minho says softly. Kibum hums, leaning back against Minho.

“I don’t want to move.”

“I’m sure my bed is more comfortable.”

“Are you going to fuck me right now?” Kibum laughs, “I’m a mess, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Not right now,” Minho says, and  _ oh,  _ Kibum’s heart skips a beat, “Later… After a shower and a nap. To make up for last time.” 

“I’ll hold you to that,” Kibum says, slowly getting up and stretching. He lets Minho take his hand, leading him to his room, and more importantly, his obnoxiously comfy en-suite bathroom.

***

Kibum wakes up while Minho’s still asleep beside him, arm draped across Kibum’s waist. He stays there for a while, soaking in the warmth and comfort. It’s been so long since he last felt this relaxed, and he even reaches down to rest his hand on top of Minho’s. Minho grunts, pulling Kibum even closer, and Kibum is so giddy he feels his cheeks aching.

“Hey sleepyhead,” Kibum says fondly, turning around to face Minho. Minho grumbles, still half-asleep, burying his face into the pillow. 

Minho cracks one eye open. “You’re up early.”

“Well, I remember being promised incredible sex,” he teases, and Minho snorts, muffled by the pillow.

“Your sex drive should be researched or something,” Minho yawns, “Give me five minutes.”

Kibum smirks. “Let’s see what I can do about that.” He leans in, moving Minho’s face slightly away from the pillow before he kisses him. Minho laughs softly, pulling Kibum closer so their bodies are pressed together.

“You look good wearing my shirt,” Minho hums when they break apart for air. He’s smiling widely, in that soft, sweet way that makes Kibum’s heart feel blissfully warm.

Kibum rolls his eyes fondly. “You just like it because it’s too big for me. How old is this shirt, anyways? You usually wear tighter shirts.”

“Probably college or earlier,” Minho chuckles, “You know, everyone was wearing loose tops in the 2000’s…”

“Enough about fashion,” Kibum huffs, “We can talk about that later.”

Later. Kibum never imagined he’d have this much time with Minho again. It seems surreal, how was so convinced his time with Minho was borrowed, that it would eventually run out and he’d be alone again. And now here they are, lying together in Minho’s bed with all the time in the world.

He kisses Minho again, a little more daring this time, licking against Minho’s lips until he groans and opens his mouth. Kibum runs his hands down Minho’s back, the warmth of his skin seeping through his thin shirt. Kibum’s hands keep moving downwards, eventually cupping Minho’s ass. Minho grunts into their kiss, and Kibum can’t help but smile.

“You minx,” Minho huffs, squeezing Kibum’s hips. Kibum gives a pleased hum, arching into the touch.

He shifts a bit, pushing Minho so he’s lying on his back. He kisses Minho on the cheek, surprisingly chaste, before pushing a thigh in between Minho’s legs to rub at his crotch. Minho’s gasp turns into a groan as Kibum insistently rubs against him, licking along his jaw. Using his strength, Minho pulls Kibum up and close so they can grind their crotches against each other.

Kibum reaches to pull both their shorts down, moaning at the skin on skin contact. Minho’s cock is hot and half-hard, and Kibum ruts against it, breathing hot against Minho’s neck. “I want you to fuck me so bad,” he groans, moving his hand to grip Minho’s dick firmly.

Minho grunts. “You’re ready?”

“Why do you think I took so long in the bathroom earlier?” Kibum laughs, “You just need to stretch me out a little bit.” Minho exhales sharply, and Kibum smiles, pleased at how Minho gets even harder in his hand. Minho mumbles something, nudging Kibum backwards so that he’s the one lying on the bed now, Minho sitting in between his legs.

“Missionary?” Kibum says, “God, how cheesy can you be?” Minho huffs, reaching into his nightstand for lube and a condom. Kibum snickers a bit, knowing damn well that Minho keeps supplies in a different drawer. He’s definitely pleased to know he’s not the only one who got ready.

“I want to look at you,” Minho says once he’s facing Kibum again, like it’s the most obvious answer, and Kibum blushes.

“Can you not be such a sap for once?” he teases.

“You like it,” Minho says, smiling. 

Kibum feels his face heat up, and he hides behind his hands. “Don’t look at me like that,” he says.

“Like what?” Minho asks.

“Like you love me,” Kibum mumbles shyly.

Minho smiles so widely his cheeks ache. “But I  _ do.” _

“Oh my god,” Kibum says, “Why am I acting like some blushing virgin?! We were literally fuck buddies for weeks before this! And we were together for two years before that!”

Minho laughs, so loud that it echoes, and so hard that he’s shaking, trying his best to  _ not  _ fall on top of Kibum. Slowly, Kibum starts to laugh too.

This time, it’s different. They’re not running away from their feelings anymore. It’s  _ real,  _ with all the awkwardness and silliness that comes with it. Kibum wouldn’t have it any other way. It feels good to be able to be with Minho without lying, without any pretense.

Eventually they manage to stop laughing, but they’re both still smiling so hard their cheeks hurt. With a fond huff, Minho leans back, nudging Kibum’s legs upwards.

Kibum swallows roughly. Minho’s fingered him so many times, so it shouldn’t be anything new. But Kibum can’t help but feel like it  _ is,  _ heart beating as Minho coats his fingers in lube. 

Minho looks up. “You okay? You’re quiet.”

Kibum flushes, biting his lip. “Just… It feels different this time. In a good way, I mean, but still different.”

“Like it means something?” Minho hums, and Kibum breathes out, surprised that Minho knows exactly what he means. “I know,” Minho continues, “Feels that way for me too.”

Minho leans over him, kissing his cheek before moving to kiss him on the lips. Kibum sighs happily, reaching up to rest his hands on the back of Minho’s neck. He groans softly when he feels Minho press against his hole with a slick finger, spreading his legs even wider.

“So good for me, princess,” Minho murmurs, slowly pushing a finger in. Kibum whines, panting as Minho works him open. Soon one finger becomes two, and then three, Kibum writhing in Minho’s arms and moaning as Minho’s fingers teasingly brush against his prostate.

“Minho, please,” Kibum pants, “I’m ready.”

Minho hums, pulling back to rip open a condom packet with his teeth. Kibum licks his lips, watching as Minho puts it on, slicking it up with more lube. He’s honestly never felt  _ this  _ excited, which is saying a lot, since he’s always excited by the prospect of being fucked by Minho.

Minho pushes Kibum’s legs back and looks at him, as if asking for permission. Kibum flushes red, finding himself at a loss for words, nodding quickly instead. Minho leans in to kiss him again, open-mouthed and messy, and Kibum shamelessly moans into his mouth as Minho pushes in.

Kibum digs his fingers into Minho’s back, pulling him in even closer until Minho’s cock is fully inside him. “Minho,” he groans, head falling back against the pillow, “Minho, please—”

“I know,” Minho says fondly, kissing Kibum’s cheek again before leaning back. He starts out slow, humming to himself as he shallowly thrusts into Kibum, enjoying how it feels  _ and  _ how Kibum reacts.

“Kibum, look at me,” he says, “I want to see your face.”

Kibum whimpers, but he opens his eyes anyways to look right at Minho. He’s flushed red, hair already messy and pupils blown wide, and Minho thinks he’s absolutely gorgeous. He pushes Kibum’s legs back even more, setting a more intense pace, and Kibum moans loudly, hands curling into the sheets.

“Just like that,” Kibum pants, “God, Minho, it feels so good— I’m so close—”

Minho nods. He’s close too, embarrassingly fast, but knowing Kibum’s this desperate too… He groans, leaning in to messily kiss Kibum  _ again, _ bringing a hand down to jerk him off as well.

Kibum gasps, panting into Minho’s mouth. It all happens so quickly, the way he falls off the edge with a keen, tightening around Minho as he comes. He shudders as Minho comes apart inside him, moaning loudly, every nerve of his on fire. They stay there for a bit, trying to catch their breath and calm their heartbeats.

Minho wheezes out a laugh finally, shaking his head and slowly untangling himself from Kibum. “Holy fuck,” he laughs, pushing his sweaty hair back.

“Honestly,” Kibum huffs, reaching out for Minho and pulling him closer, “Y’know, I really do love you, even if you can be a lot to handle.”

Kibum stops. Wait. Is it too early to say that again? He glances at Minho, watching and waiting for his response.

But Minho simply laughs, wrapping Kibum in a hug. “I love you too, dumbass,” he says lovingly, “Now excuse me because I could use a nap right now.”

Now it’s Kibum’s turn to laugh, and he kisses the tip Minho’s nose, uncontrollably fond. He reaches around for a blanket to cover them both, before snuggling into Minho’s arms with a pleased sigh. 

***

They wake up a few hours later, and Kibum decides he has one more thing to say, one more way to right his wrongs.

“Um,” Kibum says.

“Um?”

Kibum turns red, burying his face into the pillow. “Can you let me talk without embarrassing me?”

Minho smiles gently, reaching forwards to brush away a stray strand of hair from Kibum’s face. “I’m not trying to embarrass you, don’t worry.”

Kibum huffs. “This is… kinda weird, but…” he says, shyly gazing up at Minho, “I wanna go back to London.”

“Didn’t you just get back from there?”

“I know, but— I wanna go there again, this time…”

“With me… ?” Minho says, hoping he doesn’t give away how hopeful he is.

Kibum snorts. “Duh, dumbass” he says, but Minho can hear the smile in his voice. “The trip was honestly meant for the two of us anyways,” he admits, “It didn’t feel complete without you.” 

“The whole time I was there I just kept thinking about you. Like, how much you’d love to see all those cheesy tourist-y spots. Or even small things like local shops or the pigeons.”

Minho blinks. His heart feels like it’s soaring right now, and all those other cheesy things love songs say. The fact that Kibum was still thinking about him, even on the other side of the world… Minho was already madly in love with him, now he’s on top of the world.

“I’d love that,” he says warmly.

Kibum smiles, wide and genuine. “I can’t wait.” 

_ end. _

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! this is probably one of my longest published fics yet... i have no idea how other writers make 30k+ words masterpieces really, i was losing my mind at 5k LOL. anyways, i fell in love w this prompt the moment i saw it and i just Knew that it was the perfect minkey fic.
> 
> also thanks to the summerof5hinee mods for setting this up, because having a deadline really metaphorically kicks my ass into actually finishing fic hehe. AND thank you for being so kind and patient with me as i wrestled with my first fic thats gone into the double digits word count HSDGFJSDHFJSDH
> 
> special thank you to everyone on twitter who helped me and read over this fic, but a super special shoutout to @charmlesstrans, @oddexid, and @UntangleMyHeart for assuring me that this fic was going somewhere good, and also for acting as semi-betas. i love you guys so much <3
> 
> hmu on twitter (@lgbtminkey) if u wanna talk more minkey ^^


End file.
